Art Was the Mirror I Needed

Describe a moment when art helped you survive something hard.

This ties in well with yesterday’s blog post — if you haven’t read it yet, I recommend you do. It’s a good one.

Art has always been my saving grace. It’s been my anchor — the one thing that made sense when nothing else did. It has kept me safe. But once I step out of my inner world, out of that flow state, and face the realities of life, everything starts to feel heavy again. Life has always been a kind of struggle for me — trying to stay consistent, trying to be the best version of myself for others, trying at all — it’s always felt hard.

Even the creative process can feel hard.

But then there are those moments — the unbearable ones — when life becomes too much. I remember a time when I was in a relationship with someone who made me feel like I was the entire problem. They made me feel worthless. They questioned my reality, my intuition, and even my path as an artist. They didn’t support my work — not even a little.

During that time, I was working full-time and also modeling as a figure model. I was surrounded by good people who told me to leave the situation, but this was before therapy, before I had the language or tools to truly understand what I was going through.

It wasn’t until I started making art again that I began to see things clearly. When I created, I saw my feelings reflected back at me. I could see the part of myself that had been screaming for help. My illustration “Holding On” was born from this — a digital diary entry disguised as art. It’s part of a larger, private series, but this was the only piece I shared publicly.

“Holding on” print.

That piece expressed my deep yearning for self-discovery, and my desperate need to hold on to myself while everything around me was falling apart. It was a difficult realization: that I had been abandoning myself for the sake of being chosen by someone else. (Yikes — but necessary to admit.)

“Holding On” became a mirror. It showed me what I hadn’t been able to say out loud. Even after creating it, it took time for the meaning to really sink in. It took root in my gut, quietly growing until I was ready to see it for what it was: the beginning of healing. I’m grateful I created that seed.

If nothing else, I truly believe that we, as humans, are made to create. And if you can’t yet see the forest through the trees — then plant your own forest, one tree at a time. One drawing, one brushstroke, one piece at a time. Until one day, you look around and realize: you made your way through.